


swear by the moon

by angelprototype



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Prompt Fic, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 21:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelprototype/pseuds/angelprototype
Summary: "The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections."― Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me





	swear by the moon

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Prompt: It’s 3 AM. An official phone alert wakes you up. It says “Do not look at the moon.” You have hundreds of notifications, hundreds of random numbers sending messages; “It’s a beautiful night tonight. Look outside…”
> 
> **Mild violence warning**

If the subtle buzzing under your pillow didn’t wake you up, the muffled yet obnoxious warning alarm screeching from it sure as hell does. With a groan you fumble for your phone, slapping haphazardly at it in hopes of muting the alarm. Eyes bleary, you squint at the flashing messages lighting up the screen like the Fourth of July; “Emergency Alert: DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON.”

Because _that_ isn’t foreboding or anything…

The ominous alert isn’t what’s really got your interest piqued, though. It’s the hundreds of text messages, some still coming through, from random phone numbers not in your contacts list that are saying things like, “It’s a beautiful night tonight,” or “You should look outside.”

You look at your window. The blinds are down but slanted to let the spring breeze drift in. Little slivers of moonlight peek through, casting barred shadows along the hardwood floor. The cat lays in a curled ball at the foot of the bed, tan fur dipped in the slightest bit of moonlight. She seems fine, content if the soft snores she’s making are any indication. 

You look to the window again, curiosity slowly winning over common sense. You shuffle the covers around, wiggling your way out of the sheets with the open window your destination, when the TV remote clatters against the floor and makes the cat jump awake. 

You stare at the remote like a revelation just smacked you in the face… what does the news have to say? 

Scooping up the remote you click on the TV. You don’t have to fish through channels, however, to find out what’s going on. Every channel is the same; a technicolor screen with the same emergency alert scrolling along bottom, “DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON.” There is a recording playing in the background, a dismal voice saying something about staying indoors until further notice. 

The cat nudges your arm and you instinctively start scratching behind her ears, a soothing habit that works for the both of you. You sit staring at the screen, rereading the scrolling message over and over until you see it behind closed eyelids. What does it mean? What in the hell could’ve happened to the moon, of all things? 

The sound of tires screeching followed by an inevitable crash snaps you out of your revere. The cat jumps and dashes from your arms, taking shelter under the bed. Again your eyes are glued to the window…

A woman screams. A horrific howl echoes it. 

Sounds of a struggle ensue. The woman (the same woman?) is still screaming, begging whoever (whatever?) must be attacking her to stop, leave her alone. There’s another sound, one you can’t really make out from your bedroom, but it sounds like a squelch? Like something big and heavy trying to yank its boot from a mud puddle. There’s a thud. 

And the screaming stops.

You continue to stare at the window, breath held as you wait for…anything, really.

The outside is painfully quiet.

Then you hear it; chewing, a pop, something snarling.

Your legs are moving before you realize it’s even happening, and too soon you find yourself pulling the blinds up so forcefully that they fall from the window and into a heap at your feet. It doesn’t matter, because you can see now. You can see just what in the hell is going on.

But by god you wish you hadn’t.

Tire tracks lead to a car, it’s front end smashed around a fire hydrant at the corner of your neighbor’s house. The driver’s side door looks like it’s been attacked by a…a tiger or something. Something huge with claws to match.

And there’s blood. _A lot of it_. 

It starts by the driver’s door, droplets at first, and follows a trail that gets darker and wider as it goes. You follow it like a macabre yellow brick road, noticing pieces of ripped cloth, a shoe… until you reach the end of the trail. 

You hadn’t realized how much louder the munching actually was until your eyes fall on the bloody, broken woman lying in the street, an overgrown animal of some sort tearing into her flesh like a fine delicatessen. Your grip on the windowsill tightens to the point of pain as you watch the creature take a particularly large bite from the woman’s neck, the resounding pop as it pulls back with a stretchy, wet chunk in its teeth sounding like an explosion in the otherwise silent night. 

You gag (who wouldn’t), a hand over your mouth, but it’s enough. The creature stops mid-chew and turns and it’s then you get a good look at this thing; it’s covered in patches of hair, maybe fur, all matted with blood, and _tall_. It’s hard to tell from this far away, but it has to be easily clearing 10 feet. It’s muscular, arms and legs emanating pure power. But the weirdest feature is it’s face which isn’t quite animal but not totally…human? The nose is longer, snout-like, with a mouth full of shark-like teeth that are covered in blood and thick bits. 

It huffs in your direction before turning its head to the sky and lets out a blood curdling shriek, something between a howl and a cry, strings of flesh dangling from its maw glistening in the light of the moon.

_The moon..._

Slowly, painfully so, you turn your head towards the sky, the creature’s snarling howl almost sounding like hysterically laughter as your eyes finally, finally land on the suspiciously large moon smack in the middle of the black night.

It’s huge, too huge. A Super Moon maybe, with a pulsing halo of light, giving it an ethereal glow. 

It’s gorgeous. You can’t look away. 

The howling stopped.

The sound of a thousand nails clicking and clawing against asphalt makes your ears twitch, but your eyes are glued to the sky. A sudden chill washes over you, skin erupting in goosebumps. Something wet touches your lip and you swipe it away.

Huh. Bloody nose.

You start sweating, push the window open wider to get more air. 

It’s not enough. 

The click-clack is louder now, right under the window. There’s snuffling - a dog panting? – before the howls begin again, only there’s way more than one this time.

Did the moon get brighter?

When did it get so _hot_?

You yank off your night-shirt, drenched in sweat, claw at the screen in the window until you break through, fingernails broke and bloody, but there’s _air_ , sweet, cool air that you gulp down greedily.

The howling below echoes in your skull like an overplayed song, but you don’t mind. In fact, you get the sudden urge to howl back, to sing with the others. 

So you do, and their answering call makes your chest hammer, your eyes flutter.

You need to be closer. Now.

With a final push the broken screen is thrown to the side, flecks of blood speckling the wall, and you find yourself crouching on the windowsill in nothing but your pajama pants, crying out to the glorious moon, brothers and sisters below following your lead. 

You jump, land on all four next to the mangled woman who is now missing an arm. You lean over, sniff, shiver. 

_Meat._

You kneel by the body, reach out for a taste, but the creature from before snarls a warning, jaw snapping inches from your face.

The Alpha then…

You stand to your full height, five feet too short, but the growl that vibrates from your chest is enough to make the Alpha before you hesitate. You take a step towards him, lips pulled back in a snarl, and he whimpers, breaking eye contact and lowering his head. You move towards the body again, mouth salivating with the promise of a fresh meal.

The Alpha’s whine draws your attention, and before you can reprimand him again he drops the bloody limb he tore from the body earlier at your feet.

A peace offering. 

With a feral grin you sit cross-legged, the arm in your lap, and give a thankful nod to the Alpha. The others gather around the body, watching, waiting, as you break off a finger and bring it to your lips. With one final yowl to the sky you pop the appendage in your mouth, joining your brothers and sisters in their feast. 

And while the others eat and the Alpha lowers himself by your side you can’t help but wonder… what’s so bad about the moon?


End file.
